


Remember Those Walls I Built

by RuddiestBubbles



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Jack Knew First, M/M, mentions of OD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 03:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10209050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuddiestBubbles/pseuds/RuddiestBubbles
Summary: The first time Jack hears Halo it’s during his junior year. Bittle is in the kitchen, kneading dough of some kind, hips swaying back and forth as he sings along softly. It’s a song he’s never heard, but it’s got a good beat and the singer is decent, though he much prefers country. He doesn’t mean to just stand there in the door to the kitchen, silently watching, but the song really caught his attention, and threw his mind back many years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a character study, but not what it ended up being? Haha? Enjoy? :D

Parson had once been grounding. He’d been like gravity, always pulling him back to the ground when he’d gotten lost in the dark storm clouds of anxiety. Jack had fallen for Kenny, and he’d fallen hard. Maybe he wasn’t in love. No he hadn’t been. What he felt for Kenny was purely physical, sure he was a good friend-- okay maybe not a good friend, but decent at least-- but it was only ever physical. But none the less, Kenny had gotten past those walls he’d built, they weren’t very high, but they were there.  

 

Kenny had been a lot of things to Jack, best friend, hockey teammate, support system, friend with benefits. Their friendship was rocky, sometimes all smiles and laughs, while other times it was words spewed with venom. It didn’t help that their lives were so thoroughly ingrained that they knew every little thing about each other, from what made them tick to what made them a withering moaning mess. It was something they used to their own advantages on a daily basis. Their relationship was radioactive. A ticking bomb just waiting to hit zero. And it did. The destruction was paralyzing, bringing everyone in Jack’s life to a grinding halt, frozen in the moment, like a leaf that’s just landed in a pond that’s freezing over in the icy cold winter. 

 

Kenny hadn’t frozen, not like Jack or Alicia or Bob. He went first in the draft. When Jack had woken up and heard, well, that had been the equivalent of a knife to the heart which someone had grabbed and twisted. And maybe whatever higher being was up there had just wanted a nice solid laugh, because the tear stains on Bob’s face and the still falling tears on Alicia’s just twisted that knife even more. The pure sympathy and sorrow, well, that had hurt to see too. He knew then and there that he’d fucked up. That he was fucked up. Royaly. 

 

Of course while he was in rehab he thought about Kenny. Thought about how they could be out there on the ice together, the most amazing duo the hockey world had ever seen. But no. He fucked up and now he’s in rehab without Kenny. Even though Kenny had said so many terrible things, he still felt like he needed him, like he wanted to be right by his side in every single way possible. But that relationship was toxic, a bomb counting down from ten on a constant loop. Maybe this was all a blessing in disguise, though it sure didn’t seem like it at the time, not when his body was weak and his mind foggy and yearning for something. But he didn’t feel anything anymore, except for a strong desire for his anxiety meds and Kenny.

 

He did try calling Kenny. It had gone straight to voicemail and that had hurt, but when his phone had started ringing, Kenny’s name on the screen and that picture of him of Jack side by side, both holding red solo cups, he just couldn’t answer. Not the first call, or the second, or the third, or the fourth. He never did answer again, not the calls or the texts. And Jack watched with sorrow as Kenny took the NHL by storm.

 

_ That should be me _

 

He thought it everytime he saw ESPN talking up Kenny like a god-- again-- and every Aces game he watched. Bob tried everything he could to talk Jack out of watching the games, out of anything hockey, but it didn’t work. When Jack was finally able enough he instantly started a rough routine. Wake, eat, workout, protein shake, hockey, a long run, shower, eat, sleep. It was a constant. Constants helped with his anxiety. Alicia and Bob both worried endlessly about Jack. He was constantly pushing himself too hard, too fast, too much. It was unbearable seeing their son pushing himself to the very edge and then collapsing into sleep when he thought he’d had enough.

 

Jack had eventually gotten back to where he was and farther. His chubbiness was gone. He had grown into his height, mostly, he was still did that awkward slouchy thing where he thought that would make him feel less big. His muscles were toned and strong, but his heart wasn’t in it. His heart had not been in it since the OD. He used to live and breathe hockey, but now, he just dabbled, more or less. 

 

“You look exhausted.” Bob would say, a hand resting on Jack’s tense shoulder.

 

“I am exhausted.”

 

“You know, it’s okay to relax, right?”

 

“But what do I accomplish in that? I just feel like I’m not getting anywhere!”

 

“Sometimes it’s okay to stop, take a breath, and enjoy the view.”

 

That simple talk had been enough to open Jack’s eyes. He stopped his ridiculous routine the very next day. It made him anxious, but that was okay. He still went on a long run in the morning, protein shake, shower, reading a history book-- he found it on a desk in his dad’s desk and instantly fell in love. He made so many trips to the library in the following weeks. He got into the habit of sitting on the back porch with a book and bottle of gatorade while the sun set in the distance. Sometimes he’d even fall asleep and Bob would wake him up with a small laugh and a hopeful glint in his loving brown eyes. 

 

He even started coaching a peewee team, by his dad’s suggestion, and he loved it. It wasn't the same as playing hockey, but the kids he coached were so cute and had so much determination, it was honestly inspiring. It was long lived though when he packed up and went off to Samwell. He’d gotten far better since the overdose, but he still a closed off person. His wall was built high and thick, no one was going to get through it. Well, no one except Shitty, or Lardo, or Ransom and Holster. But they weren't like Kenny, and they had to fight teeth and nail to get through that wall. 

 

But then there was Bittle, standing in the kitchen, swaying his hips to Halo and singing along quietly, and all Jack could do was stare, lip his licks and walk the fuck away before he actually started drooling. After that day, well, he took a deep breath and clamped down on those feelings, they were not something he needed, or wanted, quite frankly. He distanced himself from Bittle. He didn’t mean to be an asshole, but it just kinda happened, and it was exhausting. 

 

_ Sometimes it’s okay to stop, take a breath, and enjoy the view _

 

So he took a deep breath, stepped back, and just tried to enjoy it. The checking practices were going well. He wasn’t too much of an asshole anymore, though he had his moments. Then the check happened and Jack couldn’t breath. But Bittle was okay. That was good. It was great. But Jack was the opposite. He blamed himself fully and that too was taking a toll. But Bittle forgave him. That didn’t fully settle the anxiety in the pit of his stomach, but it helped. 

 

Over break, back home in Montreal, he skated on the pond in the backyard, played shinny with his dad and uncles and read so many history books. Bob noticed the slightly off way Jack was acting rather quickly.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Bob asked gently as they skated slow laps around the pond. 

 

“It’s euh… nothing, yeah, nothing.”

 

Bob chuckled. “Definitely not nothing. I won’t push, but you can talk to me, eh?”

 

Jack skated a couple more laps, his eyes on his skates, the slow flash of silver. “It’s euh… umm….” He shook his head, took a breath and tried again. “...Feelings.. Euh.” And well, he was never good with words. 

 

“Oh? Who’s the lucky person?”

 

“Daaaad.” He groans, gliding to a stop. “It’s a guy from the team…..”

 

“Is it that cute Bittle kid?”

 

He puts his head in his hands, his face bright red. “Y-yeah.” 

 

“I totally called it! Your mom owes me twenty bucks!”

 

“Daaaaaad.”

 

“Have you asked him out yet?”

 

“N-no… I’ve euh…. Been a bit of an asshole to him.”

 

“Bud, it’s okay to like someone, no matter who they are.”

 

“I know….”

 

“And it’s okay to let yourself have things.” Bob puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, getting him to look him in the eye. “You know what your uncle says, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

 

When Jack came back from break, well, he didn’t exactly take that shot right away. He was going to, at the kegster, but Kenny showed up, and that was a shit storm. A raging storm. And then christmas break rolled around and Bob and Alicia pestered him for deets, which he had none of. Something always seemed to get in the way; whether it be weird schedules, people, or just bad luck, but Jack just couldn’t seem to be able to tell Bittle.

 

One day Jack came back from a class, the Haus was blissfully empty, besides Bittle, in the kitchen, Halo playing and Bittle swaying and dancing as he kneaded dough, singing along gently. And Jack just stood there, in the doorway, staring.

 

_ Remember those walls I built _

_ Well, baby, they're tumbling down _

_ And they didn't even put up a fight _

_ They didn't even make a sound _

 

Jack hadn’t even realized it, but those walls he had built so high and so thick after Kenny, well, they had tumbled down, and he didn’t even notice. 

 

_ I found a way to let you win _ _   
_ _ But I never really had a doubt _ _   
_ _ Standing in the light of your halo _ _   
_ __ I got my angel now

 

Bittle was perfectly haloed by the sun, his golden hair glowing, his small hips swaying ever so slightly. Jack was so fucking gone. 

 

_ It's like I've been awakened _

_ Every rule I had you break it _

_ It's the risk that I'm taking _

_ I ain't never gonna shut you out _

 

He hasn’t felt this way since Kenny, and even with Kenny it was nothing like this. It wasn’t heart stopping, it didn’t make his brain stop and anxiety settle. This was so, so, so different from anything he’s ever felt before. 

 

_ Everywhere I'm looking now _ _   
_ _ I'm surrounded by your embrace _ _   
_ _ Baby, I can see your halo _ _   
_ _ You know you're my saving grace _ __   
  


_ You're everything I need and more _ _   
_ _ It's written all over your face _ _   
_ _ Baby, I can feel your halo _ _   
_ __ Pray it won't fade away

 

How did he not realize this before? How could he not see just how much he wanted Bittle. How much he needed him in his life. It was too much, and yet at the same time, not enough.

 

_ I swore I'd never fall again _ _   
_ _ But this don't even feel like falling _ _   
_ _ Gravity can't forget _ _   
_ _ To pull me back to the ground again _ __   
  


Bittle was it for Jack. That was the one thing he knew for sure in that moment. There was no one else like Bittle in the world, and Bittle’s all Jack’s ever wanted. 

 

“Jack! You scared me!” Bittle squeaked, as he finally saw Jack. “Jack….?” He ventured, seeing the way Jack’s sad droopy blue eyes blown wide, mouth slightly ajare. “Jack, honey, are you okay?”

 

Bittle was right there. Shinning golden perfection. And he wanted, so bad, more than he’d wanted anything in his life. More than he’d wanted Kenny, and definitely worse than the crazy withdrawal he went through in rehab. He swore he wouldn’t fall again, not after Kenny, but this wasn’t like that, this didn’t feel like falling, it was like floating high above the clouds. And maybe Bob was right, he was allowed to have this. But talking was never his strong suit. So he took rushed steps forward and kissed Bittle. Bittle squeaked, startled, but it seemed like all he could to kiss back. It wasn’t hungry and dirty, no, it was a long, slow burn of lips and tongue. Jack pulled back once, just to see this was real, he didn’t believe it, but maybe he should. He kissed Bittle again, because that’s all he could do, step back, take a deep breath, and enjoy the view.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Criticism (of the constructive type) Is always appreciated! Or just feed back in general ^.^


End file.
